


the only place that feels like home

by kinpika



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Established Relationship, Future Fic, If you squint its Buddy Cop AU, M/M, Mutual Masturbation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-29
Updated: 2016-06-29
Packaged: 2018-07-19 00:50:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,258
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7337923
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kinpika/pseuds/kinpika
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><i>A chuckle. “So you </i>are<i> here. I was wondering if you were still lost at sea.”</i><br/><i>“I’m always here with you.”</i><br/><i>“I know. Me too, Keith. Just so you know.” A reminder. </i></p><p>It's been a few years, since they were up in space. Now on Earth, it's another Wednesday. Slow and steady.</p>
            </blockquote>





	the only place that feels like home

“It’s kinda quiet out tonight, don’t you think?”

 _“Is that in a ‘too quiet’ kind of way, or…”_ Shiro’s voice crackles over the speaker, which had been in dire need of repairs for a least a year now, but it didn’t bother Keith too much. Instead, he smiled, just to himself, a light pull of lips.

“No, not really.”

 _“‘Not really’?”_ A snort of disbelief, but there was no denying the humour in Shiro’s tone _“You’ve been watching too many movies with Lance again, Keith.”_

“Maybe.”

Repeating what he said again, Shiro just goes off on a laugh that spikes over the systems. Maybe he would get around to fixing that speaker now. Eyes sliding left, he could just barely see the curve a smile on Shiro’s face, teeth still not quite hidden as he mumbles to himself again. Keith hadn’t thought to bring the HUD on, just to see it in front him. That might’ve been _too_ obvious. No, he quite liked looking from the outside in, and Shiro’s gaze catches his.

 _“You wanna swap out the cats for the car?”_ he asks, as they make a lazy journey back home. Home. Keith was still wrapping his head around that concept. It had only been a few years since they had managed to return to Earth, robots and all. Squashed any vague remnants of uprisings from anyone inspired by the Galra.

They were only taking the lions out for a joyride anyway, before the official ceremony. Retirement, Lance kept calling it. Keith wasn’t sure he was going to be able to let go, not with how free he had been able to fly. Flexing his fingers over the console, it was like his lion agreed. Only for a little while, Shiro had promised him, would he stay grounded. Until he had officially graduated from Galaxy Garrison, of course.

The jerk forward was totally on instinct, but Shiro’s scratchy voice comes over _“wanna race?”_ and if Keith was Lance, or Pidge, or Hunk, he might’ve said something quick and snappy back. All he does is _push_ forward, down towards Earth, faster, faster, _faster_. Shiro’s voice is lost to a broken speaker, but Keith thinks it might’ve just been lost in the loud _whoop_ that leaves him, as he spins on his descent.

Galaxy Garrison would take marks off. Hunk would get sick. Allura would have yelled something fierce and Keith wouldn’t have minded, because Shiro was laughing right alongside him.

When they land, Keith doesn’t get up immediately. Another life, he would be first on the ground, to keep moving, keep going. There wasn’t any need to, anymore. He could sit, and wait for the systems to check for any problems with the landing, watch the consoles slowly darken around him, until the only light was above. His visor goes dark, and Keith finally stands, stretches. Hands touching everything he could on his way out, to not let himself forget. Two more days, and he would be handing his lion over. Officially taking off the red suit. 

Feet clapping on the metal as he finally walks out, Keith returns the warm smile from Shiro, and accepts the coat. Shiro had convinced him to just be a nobody, just for a little while. There was no laser guiding him to empty canyons anymore, nothing guiding him by tapping left or right on his shoulders, telling him to touch Galra technology. He wasn’t lost, not necessarily, he just wasn’t sure what was next. 

Being a cop wasn't exactly his first choice, but if it meant only a few hours patrolling the middle of nowhere before dinner, he could do that. All it meant was watching the sun set in, hanging up his coat, and napping on the couch until he was hungry. Maybe spar for a bit, see if Lance wanted to watch another movie or show they missed out on for all those years they were away. Pidge might even join them this time, who knows. One long day, stretching out into a routine he hadn’t experienced in a long, long time.

Shiro grips his shoulder, holding firm. Guidance. Not letting him flail. “Come on. We have an entire desert to cover in, oh, six hours or so.”

“Sounds like fun.”

There was a joke there, Keith still didn’t understand. Humour still confused him, but apparently he got it, sometimes. He and Allura at least were able to stand off to the side confused, while the rest of the Paladins squabbled. Coran ‘got it’, but Hunk had said that was like an uncle talking at a family party. That had confused Keith even more. Gaps in his memory. Not too much to worry over now. Not after what they had found out. Keith didn’t want to remember those things, anyway.

“Shiro, can you spar with me when we get back?”

“Of course.”

“Shiro, can you make that casserole again?”

“Again? Keith, it’s been three days in a row now.”

“Shiro, are you still afraid of me?”

The car doesn’t stop moving, still going forward at the pace they always had. Shiro smiles, and it’s worn. Tired. Keith didn’t do that to him, but he ‘got it’. Got that exhaustion that never seemed to leave your bones, that had you sleep as light as possible, knife under the pillow. It’s still with him, between their mattress now. Keith hasn’t carried it on him, not in a while, and his fingers still flex as if it should still be at his hip.

“Are you afraid of me?” Shiro doesn’t smile sincerely, more teeth and a look out the corner of his eye. Had it been anyone else, Keith might’ve been worried that they wouldn’t be able to drive straight. But it was Shiro behind the wheel, and Keith trusted no one else.

“Never.” 

“There’s your answer.”

His turn to smile again, a sort of satisfaction going through him. Satisfaction. Keith was satisfied, not only in Shiro’s response, but himself. Dark times, when the truth came out. No one wanted to speak to him. He ran away with his lion, determined to prove himself. It was Lance who raced after him, yelling that he wouldn’t let Keith beat him again. Shiro had knocked them both over the head, and Pidge dragged him home. Hunk wouldn’t let him out of sight after that. Which was fine, because Keith was fond of Hunk, and sat with him while he and Pidge repaired his lion. They had said he was too satisfied after that fiasco, to sit beside them so casually as he was ‘grounded’. 

Smile growing, Keith receives a nudge to his arm, until Shiro’s arm rests along his headrest. Fingers curl around to tug at Keith’s collar, and Keith admired how the sun caught on the metal of his right arm. Turning his head just so, Keith presses his lips to the tips of Shiro’s fingers, before he leans back. Surprisingly, the metal was never cold to him. Shiro was warm, always. There was never a cold part in him, nothing that could turn Keith away.

“This would be the part where I should think up something cheesy to say? Channel my inner Lance, right?”

Keith makes a face, feels his lips curl in disgust. “Don’t bring _him_ up _now_.”

A chuckle. “So you _are_ here. I was wondering if you were still lost at sea.”

“I’m always here with you.”

“I know. Me too, Keith. Just so you know.” A reminder. 

Slowing the car, until they were standing still. Sitting still. Keith thinks that might’ve been funny to quip, but Shiro shifts, his arm no longer hidden by the headrest, against the back of his neck now. Fingers weave through his hair, and Keith thinks two things: he needs a haircut, he needs to seal the cuts in Shiro’s arm again. As hair catches on slightly damaged metal, Keith knows there were plenty of things that needed fixing, but not this, as Shiro’s mouth moulds onto his.

“Bad timing,” he murmurs, as Shiro hadn’t turned of the ignition, as the car jerks forward. Neither of them were used to being on the ground. Keith might’ve laughed, if Shiro hadn’t broken the kiss only to look him dead in the eye.

“No such thing.”

Keith doesn’t think any further, as Shiro wraps himself around him. Not literally, maybe, Keith wasn’t sure. The cab of the car was too small in the front for the both of them, anyway. But even with that knowledge, Shiro groped, moved, and it felt like Keith was surrounded, entirely, in a warmth he wasn’t sure he would ever deny. 

The only thought he has, that Lance might say it was getting steamy inside despite the cold of the desert, and that was enough to pull Keith back. One day, he might think that was a good thought, as it meant he wouldn’t cramp, Shiro’s arm wouldn’t catch on anything else, or they wouldn’t drive the car off a cliff by accident. But it was something that made him gag. 

“I hate Lance,” is all he says, and Shiro doesn’t ask. Doesn’t let him go either, just raises his brows in that way he always had. 

Rubbing a hand over his face, Keith at least had no mental images of Lance to accompany any thoughts, and was getting decidedly tired of the voice in the back of his head sounding like him. It wasn’t like he had died either, and Keith was just imaging it all. 

“Backseat.”

Laughter is still there, and Shiro kicks both their chairs back, catching Keith off guard as he tumbles back. He does manage to sit up, and slide himself back, almost thankful for the small cab, and the slight gap between their chairs. Lets his leg hang between the front seats, as he shrugs his jacket off. Throws it opposite himself, as Shiro’s own lands on top. “Did you turn off the car this time?”

Finally, there’s something on Shiro’s face other than laughter or worry. It’s a very annoyed look that has Keith grin, full and wide. Simply because Keith could count on at least both hands the number of times Shiro had forgotten to turn the car off, and they’d rolled away in the middle of it all. He, of course, only accepted the blame for one time, because they had decided to try it in the front seat. It was hard to explain later why the car had ended up the way it did.

“I have to stop letting you talk me into this.”

“I didn’t say anything.”

Pause. “Wait, really?”

Keith nods, and rests his hands on Shiro’s shoulders. “I think you’re imagining things.”

Snorting, Shiro swats the hands away, mumbling something under his breath that Keith doesn’t quite catch. Hands fall to the fly of his pants, and Keith palms himself through the material. “We don’t have to.”

“You really shouldn’t offer an out when you’re doing that, Keith. Makes it hard to say no.”

“You can just watch.” An honest offer, but it has Shiro groan for reasons Keith didn’t quite get. Not yet, anyway. One day Shiro might explain that to him.

“No one should say something like that with such a straight face.” That’s all Keith gets out of the mumbling, and stops his hands. 

“Shiro—”

“Not all the way, okay?”

“Whatever you want.”

“‘Whatever I want’, huh? Alright…”

Despite the lingering frown, that Keith knew was not hesitance, Shiro seated himself on Keith’s lap. A deep huff leaves Keith, at just how warm Shiro was, and he was glad he had shed his jacket. Leaving himself, Keith pulls at the belt, fingers sliding to pull at buttons and zips. He was glad they had not suited up today. That would have made things harder, messier. Against regulation, especially for space travel. But when his nails brush the material of Shiro’s briefs, he figures it was worth it, breaking rules again. 

It was always fun breaking rules with Shiro, anyway.

Shiro was responsive and like a live wire, hands gripping at the seat either side of Keith’s head, as Keith was slow, tentative. Fingers tracing the outline of his cock in his pants, teasing him further, making Shiro go from somewhat there to solid definite. No words this time. No mumbles into Keith’s ear. At least, not yet, Keith hoped, he always liked it when Shiro was at his ear, just whispering things, anything, everything. ‘Thank you for saving me’ was Keith’s favourite line, just behind the ‘I love you’. That was always the one Keith liked hearing the most.

“You really wanted to do this, didn’t you?” Keith asks, a genuine curiosity. Had it not been Shiro, with the way he was touching his cock, maybe someone would have interpreted Keith differently. Shiro just nods, because he knew, and he knew Keith. Genuinely curious.

“Touch me… please.” Manners. Remembered his manners. Another groan, and Shiro’s right arm is too fast, too adept at doing the fly of Keith’s pants. Takes half the fun out of it, like it wasn’t distracted by Keith freeing Shiro’s cock from his briefs, finally. 

Keith doesn’t mind, not ten seconds after pouting, because Shiro swaps out his hands, rests his forehead against Keith’s. Calloused skin catches at the head of his cock, in a way that makes his eyes roll to the back of his skull, every time. Shiro knows him too well, and it had been daunting, back then, to be known inside out. Now, it just meant he could feel his heart hammering away hard enough that it filled the cab of the car, had him curling over Shiro’s hand, almost forgetting his own task.

“Together,” he manages to get out, somehow, tongue just barely working around words. Keith isn’t able to give a name to the noise Shiro makes, as he lowers himself, a little more, until he’s heavy on the tops of Keith’s thighs. With the size of the cab, and still in jeans, it makes it hard to fit together. Suits would’ve been better here, Keith knows, because they would have had to strip them off entirely. Jeans were a bad idea. 

They manage, like they always do. Shiro covers him, completely, smothering, blocking out anything and everything behind him. Not that Keith was looking at anything else, and the hand not holding their cocks together digs into Shiro’s back, adding half moons to the already impressive array of scars there. 

So warm, Keith thinks, and his eyes finally slip shut as he comes, a noise that is pressed into Shiro’s throat, teeth catching there. He’ll apologise later, maybe get some of that special gel from Coran for the wound. He didn’t mean to break the skin, after all. Shiro wouldn’t bother him with it anyway. No, Shiro wouldn’t mind at all.

Coming down, Keith is blinking up at the ceiling of the cab, as Shiro grunts. Metal finds his free hand, fingers curling into his own, holding him firm. Shiro finally comes, grasping his hand, like always. If Keith were anyone else, he might comment about that. Instead, he just kisses Shiro, gently on his eyelids, dragging his lips down to his cheeks, over his broken nose, to the other side and back once more. Like he had always wanted to, since he had first been thrown into the garrison, landing on his knees, with only Shiro the one to offer a hand. Help him stand up. 

Shiro breathes deeply, eyes slowly opening, hazy and pupils still blown out. Beautiful. Keith presses their lips together, not to encourage anything further, at least not yet. Later, when they were alone in their bed, hiding under the sheets. Morning before patrol. Breakfast in bed. He thought up a dozen different excuses to eat scrambled eggs on their sheets, and they were all lost to him when Shiro presses back, gently, slowly.

When they part, Keith doesn’t feel the cold. There is none, even as Shiro mutters something about the mess, and uses his shirt to wipe what he could of their mess off. Even as they part, and he’s slow to button his pants back up. Shiro doesn’t bother with his, just rearranges himself back in his briefs, kicks up the seats. Screws his shirt into a little ball, and grabs his jacket. Keith wonders if he should take his shirt off too, just so they match. He didn’t mean to say that out loud, oops, but Shiro laughs, and kisses him once more.

“You might distract me from driving,” Shiro says, and the wink there had something that says ‘practiced’. Quite possibly in front of a mirror.

“You’ve been listening to Lance again.”

“It’s hard not too.”

“At least listen to Hunk for… ‘pick-up lines’?” That’s what they were, he was sure. Pidge had tried to explain them once. Keith wasn’t sure who was more embarrassed at that moment, but they had worked on Shiro, at least. Although, Hunk had insisted on taking over, to save Pidge the embarrassment. Keith might thank them for that in his next message.

“I’ll pass on that one.”

“Pidge has some good ones,” Keith comments, without thinking. From the recent photos, they worked on Allura quite fine. Good. 

“I’m not sure how you know that.”

Nearly gave it away. “It’s a secret.” 

Shiro’s still hovering over him. Distracting him with being shirtless. Maybe he wasn't sure he was. Oh, that look in Shiro’s eye said he was aware. Damn. “Are we going to go?”

Not that Keith wanted to. Five more hours, crawling around the desert for nothing in particular. No laser guiding him, no backseat driving. A car that couldn’t rise more than six feet off the ground and just flat land as far as the eye could see. Keith hoped they ran into some people from the garrison out here, at least. Conversation to make some time pass.

“I guess. Sooner we’re done, the sooner we’re home.”

“Home.” Keith still liked wrapping his mouth around that word, and Shiro smiled as he said it.

“Yeah, come on.” A quick peck, and Shiro throws the door open, cold air hitting them both. “Grab your jacket and get in the front seat.”

Keith follows him out, shrugging the coat on, fur right up against his ears as he pulls his pants up further. Missed the suits then, as the cold seeped into the material of his jeans, made his socks damp without even trying. Wished he brought a band for his hair then, to keep it out of his eyes. Looking over at Shiro, who leaned against the passenger door, Keith didn’t feel a need to not be invisible this time.

Pressed against Shiro’s side, he laces their fingers together, holds him closer still. Watches the sun rise over the canyon, and doesn’t think about anything in particular. “I need to fix the speaker in my lion,” he murmurs, earning a small hum in response. “I think we broke it last time.”

“‘We’?”

He can’t hide the smile. “Yeah, ‘we’ did it.”

There’s a small “I don’t believe you,” but Keith is sure he has this humour thing somewhat, even if he doesn’t ‘get’ it. At least Shiro is laughing, and moves to have an arm around him, against, a solid hold against his side. Lips press against the top of his head, and Keith returns the embrace. 

“Come on. There’s an entire desert out there waiting for us.”

“‘Us’?”

Shiro throws the smile over his shoulder. “ _Us_.”

**Author's Note:**

> #sheith4days
> 
> also shoutout to this [fanart](http://hyperdolk.tumblr.com/post/146417653592/please-consider-future-buddycop-au) by [hyperdolk](http://hyperdolk.tumblr.com). whilst i didn't keep the suits, and made it idk whatever, i totally have buddy cop AU for sheith on the brain and this was a partial inspiration.
> 
>  
> 
> feel free to send me prompts for fics on tumblr (@[hotlineaisui](www.hotlineaisui.tumblr.com)) i would love some casual prompts (esp for sheith)


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